Zaizen the Misunderstood and Factory
by Aisling Niamh
Summary: Ever wonder what REALLY possessed Zaizen to create Factory and orbo? Here you go. Read with a sense of humor.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: You know the drill. You sue, I have no money, it will be pointless.

Aisling A/n: The idea for this came into my head one day thanks to the inhabitants Harry's. I give you credit!

This is maybe one of the most surreal things I've written. It's just… weird. Thus you have been warned: Read with an ample sense of humor.

I in my perfect turquoise suit was sitting UNATTENDED on a bench in the middle of a cloud, WITHOUT my Signature Cuban Cigar and my Brandy And Soda. They were making me wait. They still are. It makes me very angry. I don't like having to wait! The man that was waiting on me said that they don't have any brandy here! I can't believe it. He said he was a fisherman anyway. Humph. What would _he_ know?

What do you mean, what am I here for? They won't tell me! Of course I don't know. Do _you_ know?

Afterlife? Very funny. No, it must be prison.

Car accident? Did you cause it, if you're here?

I don't know why they're keeping me here. Don't they know who I am?

No?

Well they will all right. I'll make sure they know. I didn't do anything. They have no right to keep me here. It was all that damned building.

Did I run my car into it? No. Why would I do that? It wouldn't let me if I tried. Damn thing's alive.

No, I'm not crazy. Why do you ask? Anything can happen to anything or anybody; it just happened to happen to me.

Did I not make myself clear? Don't you have ears and a brain?

I meant Factory was alive. I meant it possessed me. Is that concept just to complicated for you?

I see.

Oh.

How did it happen? Well, I don't know.

It all started when I was appointed to the post of Administrator in the STN-J. I was 36 then, before my wife divorced me.

The STN-J? We hunt Witches. You know, the foul creatures that pollute the pure water that is humanity.

Very funny.

The position of Administrator pays well. My wife, daughter, and I moved into a good-sized, upscale apartment. We lived a sort of idealistic life.

And then I began to feel The Call. My expensive car began to be pulled in a sort of northwesterly direction when I drove it. I thought there must be something wrong with the steering, but nothing could be found.   
I traded it in anyways.

And the same thing happened.

I traded that one in and got a truck.

The same thing happened.

I got a convertible.

The same thing happened.  
Economy car, luxury car, limo, monster truck… same thing.

One day, I decided to just let my car (a sedan now) go where it wanted. I simply steered it around corners and out of the path of other cars and large objects.

It took me far out of the city and eventually into a huge wood. Farther and farther it went, heading down an overgrown dirt road. It was very early autumn, and the leaves were beginning to change. I remember it was beautiful. It was one of the last times I ever noticed anything like that.

I didn't need to. What does it matter?

Then I came to a weedy clearing. Sitting in the middle was the shell of a building, gutted by fire.

It called to me.

Little did I know, it would become my life, the pinnacle of my career: Factory.

Ais A/n: Bad, I know. And kind of short. But I want to see how people react first.

The idea, besides coming from Harry's, originally came from a fic writer who had serious grammar trouble. She made it sound like Factory just… randomly picked itself up and rebuilt itself, I don't know.

BTW, do ya think I get the First Non-yaoi Zaizen Fic Award?

Slainte,

Ais


	2. Love at First Sight

Zaizen the Misunderstood and Factory Ch 2

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't own, don't own. The end.

Er… yeah. This chapter might be weirder than usual because my various alter-egos seem to be fighting over it. Bear with me, here.

Also, Ais has help from The Immortal Archangel HYDE!!! YAY! Maybe this chapter'll be good after all…

………………………………

You don't happen to have a cigarette or anything?

No?

Of course not! _I_ do not go through withdrawal!

Where was I? Oh yes.

I stared up at the building for some time. Why had my car brought me here? What was the point? Just an old abandoned building, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

Finally I got in my car and followed my wheel tracks back into the city.

……………………………..

For the next few days things went as normally as possible, but I couldn't forget that building. I tossed and turned all night, and hardly ate anything all day. This was about the time I picked up my brandy-and-soda habit. Finally it was Friday. I decided that on Saturday I would go back and find that building, figure out what it was about it I couldn't forget.

This was something I should never have done.

This time my car wasn't pulled along, but I instinctively knew the way. I was going to figure this out, if it was the last thing I did.

Then the phone rang. INTERRUPTING me.

"Daddy, Mommy wants to know where you are."

"I'm out on business, Touko."

"Okay, hold on a minute." I heard muffled voices in the background.

"Mommy says you give that excuse all the time and she wants to know what you're REALLY doing."

"I'm…checking out some possible new property. Why don't you just put Mommy on the phone?"

"She's in the shower. She says she'd get _electercooted_."

"Well, tell her I'm looking at property and I might not be home for supper."

"Okay…" I heard more muffled mumbling. "Mommy says bye."

"Okay. Bye, Touko."

"Bye Daddy!"

I hung up the phone and drove off.

………………………………

I got out of my car and slammed the door. (What do you mean 'how do I remember that'?) I was right. It was just a burned-out building.

Wasn't it?

Yes it was.

No it wasn't.

Yes it was.

Fine, then. I'll stop.

As I was saying, I was in great disagreement with myself. It was as though…but no, not possible. A burned-out building that had ideas about its own future? Can't be.

The grass was up to my waist, covering me in _dirt_. I don't like dirt, you know. Cleanliness is next to godliness.

What do you mean, why was the grass covered in dirt? How should I know? I'm just telling you how it was.

AS I WAS SAYING, it was not the sort of place I'd normally go. I walked toward the boarded-up entrance of the building. An old, faded sign read 'Danger! No Trespassing!'

See? This property was dangerous and I had no business being here. I turned to go.

And that was when all the boards nailed to the door fell off. No, not just one. _All_ of them. A sign from God, or a freak accident?

Oh the suspense.

My muscles seemed frozen, but apparently my mind knew what it wanted. I began to walk toward the open door as though pulled by some intangible force. A ghost? My own subconscious realization of the potential of that place? I don't know. But I know that I entered that door. And I hardly realized it until I looked up, released from my trance, and saw dilapidated beams above me. The floor joists were rotten, burned out, or perhaps both, for the floor sagged heartily as I walked.

And no, I don't know how something can sag heartily.

But… there _was_ potential. Huge piece of property, I could easily buy it, tear down the building, and…

No. Not tear down the building. It was precious.

My love, my own? What do you mean?

Hobbit? What?

Will you just let me tell the story?

I couldn't tear down that building. Despite its industrial, mid-sixties appearance, it had an aura of molding grandeur about it.

Yes. It did.

I wandered throughout the whole building, looking its beautiful dilapidation up and down. And sideways.

I managed to avoid falling through the floor, or any such calamity. It was as though the building itself was protecting me, perhaps. It loved me at first sight.

Though a natural romantic, the logical side of my personality managed to intervene.

What would I do with such a building? It would take immense time and work to even _begin_ to make it safe again. (Not _my_ time and work, but it's the idea of the thing.) Why did I need a rotting building?

And suddenly it didn't matter anymore. The building's happiness was all that mattered. _My_ building.

I walked quickly out of my building, feeling elated. But as I climbed into my car, I began to have doubts. What if I never found a use for my building? So, my elation was dampened by that pesky little doubt, though I tried to maintain optimism. Maybe it was a good thing I had that damper or else the wife might have gotten suspicious.

……………………………….

Ais A/N: --sigh—Once again even with the Immortal Archangel Hyde (currently sitting to my left laughing her head off about 'sideways') I have written a short chapter. I will TRY to make this longer next time. It was _such_ a good note to end on, though…

Hyde A/N: Well, I did give you the idea about the vision…you can work with that next chapter.

Ais A/N: Hmm… vision… vision… what can I do with vision… OK, what was I saying? A couple review responses this chapter. That's all. This is because 1. I'm too lazy to open up my account and 2. I'll feel BAD if I don't get this uploaded tonight…

FieryDemonFox: I am trying to make it look like Zaizen was a fairly normal dude until the Evil Building possessed him. LOL.

Zaizen: People think I'm an asshole?

Ais: OUT! OUT! No more fictional charactrs allowed! Especially DEAD ones!

Neverland's Apprentice: Yes. Sadly, there are many Zaizen yaoi fics. He has been yaoied… yaoified? Slashed with Amon, Sakaki, and infamously, Michael. I know. It's just WRONG. They were mostly written by girls between the ages of 11 and 15. God knows… --goes off to bleach out her brain—

Robin x Amon: ACK! Teelin just brought in this big cockroach and said "See? I have a bug!"

But that's beside the point. Thank you. And of COURSE there's going to be more! Ais doesn't think she'd ever be able to write just one chapter on anything…. Sadly.

Parnoid: Yeah… you know. LOL

--eats oatmeal raisin cookies, spitting out raisins—Thank you! –hangs up Amon napkin on computer room wall next to Orlando Bloom and Robin posters—Yay! –sticks star on computer— And the carrots will come, they'll come, oh yes…

Shoot. Teelin and a little girl named Johnna have turned my hallway into a racetrack.

St Earns: Little kids on sugar. Woot.

LOLLOLLOL! (sorry—Alter Ego Pink/Peridot took over there for a min) –gets out snifter of brandy and big thick cigar, lights it, and crosses her legs—You were saying?

Aki Tari NAI: Shoot. Well, the Second Non-yaoi Zaizen Fic Award is better than nothing… Thanks!

Ais A/N: May happy patchouli people smile upon you, and may Orlando Bloom never eat your socks.

Hyde A/N: May my Uncle Dick never run around obsessively taking pictures of you cutting pie.

Ais and Hyde: --laugh obsessively at nonsensical inside joke—

Ahem. Yes. Well, thank you for reviewing, and I _apologize_ once again for the shortness of this chapter. Patchouli.

Slainte,

Ais the Great Mother Goddess of Randomness, Self Insertion, and Reviews; and Hyde, the Immortal Archangel and Profession Accomplice in Crime/Second in Command. ****

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